


Good Evening Seattle, I'm Listening

by swankyturnip76



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Falling In Love, First Dates, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Humor, M/M, Modern Era, Modern Magic Elements, Mutual Pining, Pining, Slow Burn, Smut, cullrian - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-09
Updated: 2018-06-18
Packaged: 2018-12-13 07:28:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11754987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swankyturnip76/pseuds/swankyturnip76
Summary: Dorian and Isabela are co-hosts of a radio show in Seattle that deals with all matters sexual. Listening to the show proves to be Cullen's guilty pleasure and he finds himself growing increasingly attracted to a face he's never seen before. What happens when the two meet? Tags will be added as the story progresses. My first Cullrian fic.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Cullrian fic. I had the idea after watching the show Frasier for many years but wondered what it would have been like if a dirty radio show existed. If this story gets enough positive feedback, I'll devote more time and energy into updating it frequently. Thank you for giving it a shot and please tell me what you think!

“Carolyn, I’m going to lay it out on the line for you. Men don’t know what the clitoris is, nor do they know how to properly stimulate it. Either you have to take the time to train your man or dump him.”

“I say dump him,” Isabela chimed in. “Especially if he brags about how you’re not the first woman he’s been with and claims to have a great prowess in bed. You’ve been married for four years and he still can’t make you cum? Honey, you should’ve run a long time ago.”

“Isn’t that a little harsh?”

“Four years of no pleasure is harsh,” Dorian replied matter-of-factly. “He doesn’t get to expect you to blow him while he refuses to comply with your needs.”

Carolyn chuckled and replied, “I’ll try to explain it to him. I just feel so embarrassed having to explain it!”

“Don’t be, darling,” Isabela said kindly. “Talking about what you need in the bedroom is important in relationships. If he is too embarrassed to learn then you shouldn’t waste your time.”

Dorian nodded in agreement but, remembering that Carolyn couldn’t see him, voiced, “I agree. Marriage is a strong commitment that requires mutual understanding and stimulation. He can’t be the only one getting off when you make love.”

Isabela raised an eyebrow at his choice of wording but didn’t say anything. A few more callers called in with problems similar to Carolyn’s but the show wrapped up fairly quickly. It wasn’t until Dorian had flicked off his microphone and lowered his headphones that Isabela came out of her cubicle and gave him a skeptical look.

“Making love?”

“Oh hush,” Dorian snapped but his fondness for his co-host bled through. “I am not allowed to be sentimental every now and then?”

“It was just surprising hearing a regular cynic refer to boning in such a manner.”

Dorian rolled his eyes at her as he pulled on his sweatshirt and grabbed his bag. “You could use with a little more romanticism in your life.”

“Yes, because my life is lacking  _romanticism_.”

Dorian smirked at her as the two made their way out of the radio station. They parted ways at the intersection, Isabela giving him her standard, flirtatious wave as she hopped into her Camaro. As he drove home, his mind wandered back to the calls of the night. Maybe putting a diagram and a few instructional videos on the show’s website wouldn’t be a dire idea. Surely Varric wouldn’t mind.

When he had moved to Seattle three months ago, the last thing he had expected was to wind up hosting a sex and relationship advice show for KACL. The show ran during the graveyard shift of most occupations and when there was a slow night without calls, Dorian would wind up playing music over the air. VarricTethras, the station’s manager, was a relatively easygoing fellow and didn’t much give a damn what Dorian said or did on air so long as it kept ratings up. Which it did, surprisingly.Not many people in Seattle were up for the graveyard time slot, but Dorian did have his fair share of dedicated followers and call-ins. They even seemed to appreciate his rather eclectic, hipster-esque taste in music. Combined with his co-host and producerIsabela’s own colorful past and rather frank nature, the two made a good team.

Dorian had quickly found that men in Seattle were not much different than the men he had known back home. He’d have a couple one-night stands that were worth telling Isabela about, but he hadn’t met anyone worth seeing more than once. It wasn’t that Dorian _wasn’t_ the dating type – it was more that he couldn’t find anyone capable of holding his attention for more than one night. Disappointment was something Dorian was used to, but it was still something that continuously bothered him. He had come to Seattle looking for new opportunities – in all senses of the word. So far he had only found a steady job that he enjoyed and a nice apartment. He supposed the relationship side of things would come along in time, but Dorian was also a realist. A ‘hopeless romantic’ realist. He considered himself the first of his kind.

**XXXXX**

“Men don’t know what the clitoris is, nor do they know how to properly stimulate it,” the radio host was saying rather matter-of-factly. Cullen felt the corners of his mouth tilt up in a smirk. He remembered a time when a past girlfriend had had to teach _him_ the ways of the clit. Luckily for him he was a fast learner and a good listener.

“If he’s too embarrassed to learn then you shouldn’t waste your time.”

Well. Cullen could certainly agree with the show’s producer and co-host. He didn’t have nearly as much experience in the bedroom as the two hosts of the show, but Cullen could agree that there was nothing worse than an impatient lover who assumed they knew all the ways of pleasing someone rather than taking the time to find out what exactly worked and what didn’t.

“He can’t be the only one getting off when you make love.”

Cullen nodded to himself in agreement again even though nobody saw him. He listened to the talk show through a portable radio attached to his belt – a pair of ear buds prevented anyone who might still be working at these late hours from overhearing. The show wasn’t the most safe for work thing to listen to, and it certainly wasn’t something that Cullen would advertise listening to on his online dating profile, but it _was_ something of a guilty pleasure he had recently acquired after coming to his new job. Mia had her trash television – Cullen had his trash radio.

“Well that marks the end of our time together for tonight, gentlefolk. May your wants be met and satisfied. Tune in tomorrow night for another riveting conversation with KACL’s finest!”

Cullen listened to Dorian sign off and for a moment wondered what the man looked like in real life. He had half a mind to look up the host’s profile online just to be able to associate a face with the name, but a part of Cullen wondered if it would take away a bit of the mystery that was Dorian Pavus. The host seemed open and friendly with callers, especially with ones genuinely in need of sound advice. Around the corner from the office building in which he worked, Cullen could see a billboard from one of the windows that advertised the late-night radio show. But instead of featuring Isabela or Dorians’ faces, in silver, elegant script was the show’s slogan, “Ask, Listen, Feel Good.” Not necessarily what Cullen would consider the most eloquent of slogans, especially considering Dorian and/or Isabela often mocked it, but Cullen couldn’t deny that the show aimed to do just as it advertised.

Right on cue, Cullen looked at his watch as the radio show ended and saw that his shift was over. Packing up the various supply tools, Cullen rolled his garbage can into the janitorial closet and made his way out of the office building and out into the fresh air. Working nights as a janitor and mornings at a woodshop didn’t leave him with a lot of time for sleep or social activities, but, then again, Cullen didn’t necessarily have a large friend base in Seattle to spend time with. After all, he had come to the city for a fresh start away from everyone he knew. Well, except for his siblings.

Glancing at the moon that was slowly making its way behind the horizon and out of sight, Cullen wondered what tomorrow’s radio show would be about. Would the usual crew of disgruntled, middle-aged housewives call in? Would there be male callers? Would Dorian open up a bit more about himself? Cullen let out a puff of air and shook his head. Dorian Pavus was just a fun voice to listen to, nothing more.

Truly.


	2. Corcavus Bookstore

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed this story and started following it! I was deeply surprised at the amount of overwhelmingly positive feedback I've received and thank each and every one of you immensely. I hope you enjoy this chapter <3

Mia’s birthday was fast-approaching. Cullen resided himself to losing a few hours of sleep one Thursday afternoon in order to scour his newly favorite bookstore in Seattle for a present befitting his elder sister. Mia was a natural life-long learner and enjoyed every subject imaginable. Therefore, shopping shouldn’t be difficult for her...in theory. Her collection far exceeded Cullen’s small, personal one and he wasn’t sure anymore what she did and didn’t possess. He couldn’t very well ask her either – that would defeat the element of surprise.

He decided to forgo driving or taking a cab in order to get some exercise and make up for the lack of a workout he would be partaking in that day. There was a quaint mom-and-pop type of bookstore about twelve blocks from his place. Cullen often went there (when he had the time for it) to drown himself in research or pleasure reading. It was a good, yet expensive, hobby that often left him with shallow pockets. Since moving to Seattle and finding this treasure gem of a shop, Cullen’s library had increased by two floor-to-ceiling shelves. Granted, they were not yet full of books, but the emptiness gave him a sense of hope that soon they would be.

The coffee shop, with its mahogany floors that creaked in certain spots and bohemian-themed light fixtures, was nothing short of eclectic. The shelves were always neat and in order, the couches and chairs for customer comfort were always clean and welcoming, and the signs displaying each genre were written in the odd handwriting of the barista.

Cullen made an automatic beeline for the coffee stand, knowing he would need something to keep him awake enough to read through the various titles and descriptions without getting dizzy or sleepy. Predictably, the young and fair barista was there, smiling shyly up at him before he even reached the counter.

“Nightmares remain yet seeing the sunrise each morning eases them. Words whispered in the ear – consoling, grounding. Wonder what he looks like. Wonder if he would want to know what _I_ look like.”

“Good afternoon, Cole,” Cullen replied to the standard, unusual greeting of the barista. When he had first moved to Seattle, he had found the barista’s talent for reading his thoughts and emotions to be discomforting. However, once he realized that Cole meant no harm – that he only wanted to help and offer an understanding hand – Cullen had warmed up to him. Cole was not a malicious boy – just...odd. “Just a medium black coffee for me, please.”

True to his shyness, Cole didn’t meet Cullen’s eyes as he nodded with a smile and began complying. Cullen wasn’t sure how, but Cole made the most delicious coffee. He often wondered if Cole could read his mind to know exactly how to brew the stuff to please him. The boy was certainly something. As he waited for his coffee, a booming voice from behind him rang out through the small shop.

“Haven’t seen you in at least a week!Thought you had forgotten about little old us.”

The smile was on Cullen’s face before he had even turned fully around. “I’ve been working. I can’t keep buying your books with no money.”

“Pah! I’m sure you could figure some sort of payment out.”

Cullen ignored Bull’s standard flirtation and shifted his stance. “How’s business been, Bull?”

The hulking Qunari gave a half-shoulder shrug in response. He was used to Cullen’s deflection while flirting. Bull flirted with everyone – species be damned. “Relatively slow as of late. But with back to school season quickly approaching, I’m sure this place will be packed before you know it. The boss isn’t too concerned.”

Cullen nodded in reply. Corcavus Bookstore got its name from a prison of legend said that once you entered its great pit, you never left. Similarly, once you entered the bookstore, leaving proved difficult. It had its fair share of loyal customers of varying ages and was visited often enough by tourists to keep numbers high. Not as wealthy as a Barnes & Noble but not poor either.

Cole reached his hand out from the stall and Cullen graciously accepted the cup, giving Cole his payment and change with his free hand. Turning back to Bull, he commented, “I don't see your boss around.”

Bull’s mouth twisted into something of a frown as he gave a  curt nod. “He’s working out a deal with the dwarf for a book signing event here. Damn Tethras asks too much in payment.”

Cullen smirked. Varric Tethras had something of a reputation. Not only was he the station manager for KACL but he was the most popular author in Seattle. Everyone loved his books – Cullen admittedly had a few in his collection himself. Though he told anyone who happened to spot his collection that they were donations by Cassandra – no reason to admit he had thoroughly enjoyed the trash.

Bull rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. “Well I had better get back to the desk. Let me know if you need anything.”

Cullen nodded his thanks and took a sip from the coffee. Perfect as always. Giving a smile to Cole to show his appreciation – and not missing the boy’s lips quirk up in response – Cullen turned and began his hunt through the shelves for something for Mia. He quickly found himself in the history section. Not really paying much attention to his surroundings, Cullen began perusing the shelves and ignored his surroundings as he fell into concentration. 

**XXXXX**

Dorian Pavus sighed as he tossed and turned in his bed. The air conditioner was broken and a hot, August day proved unbearable for sleeping. Giving a frustrated sigh of defeat, Dorian kicked off the blankets and glanced at the clock. His attempt to sleep the morning and early afternoon away was clearly in vain. Dragging himself out of bed, he took a long shower, preened and pampered himself, and decided to do some shopping. Visiting Corcavus Bookstore would surely take the edge off. Maybe he could return to his apartment and get some shut eye after.

The bookstore was on the other end of town in what Dorian considered the “shabbier bits” – in fact, all of Seattle had its charms but Dorian’s snobbish upbringing hadn’t _all_ gone away with his venture to the new city. Yet the bookstore was his favorite and he didn’t mind the trek across town.

There was parking around the corner of the bookstore. Dorian wasted no time in finding a spot, locking his car (for good measure), and strolling through the front doors as if he owned the place. The familiar form of the Iron Bull – Corcavus’s head cashier – greeted him warmly from behind the sales desk opposite the coffee stand.

“Well look who’s here! Traveled all the way across town just to see little old me, did ya?”

“Bull, we both know there isn’t anything _little_ about you,” Dorian replied warmly as he saddled up to the counter and leaned against it. “Happen to have anything special for me?”

Bull’s gaze softened as the smile reached his eyes. “Only the best for our favorite naughty talk show host.” He disappeared into a back storage room for a moment before coming back out with a small pile of books. Holding them out to Dorian, he said, “These just came in two days ago. I put them aside figuring you'd be back soon for a new read."

Surprised, but not one to show it, Dorian accepted the books gratefully and scanned the first title.

“ _Dracula_? A bit juvenile for my tastes, no?”

Bull’s smile twisted into a feral smirk as he replied, “I just thought with how much you love biting that the two of you might have something in common.”

“Oh hardy har,” Dorian replied with a laugh as he rolled his eyes. He shifted the pile of books in his arms so that he could see what was underneath the joke book. “ _A Time of Change: A Complete History of Archon Darinius_ and _A Molecular Study of Biology: What Makes Us Us_.”

“You probably already know most of what’s in both, but there _is_ information in them that I didn’t know before and that you probably didn’t either. Might prove for some nice, light reading.”

Genuinely touched, Dorian grinned at Bull. “You know me so well to understand I consider this ‘nice, light reading’”

“I try.”

Dorian took the stack and retired to his usual spot near the unlit fire place in the back of the shop. The shag chair gave him the perfect view of his favorite section – history – and allowed him to soak in the warmth of the fire when it would be lit in a few months. Dorian enjoyed the quiet serenity of the bookstore – it was hardly ever ‘packed’ the way other, more mainstream bookstores were and truly knew how to cater to its clientele. He figured that was largely in part to all the workers at Corcavus having a strange ability to know what one needed, in one way or another.

Dorian nestled into the arm chair and put _Dracula_ and the book about history aside in favor of skimming through the science one. Perhaps Bull was right and he _would_ learn something new and exciting. Wouldn’t that be something?

**XXXX**

Dorian was used to people navigating through the bookstore while he read. Hardly did a person’s presence cause him to break concentration and look around. He was used to the unique smells of the bookstore and Bull or Cole occasionally flitting by on some mission. What he _wasn’t_ used to was the very distinct smell of wood smoke floating through the air. Dorian didn’t particularly consider himself one for the outdoors but he did love that familiar scent. In a good way, it oddly reminded him of home. Blinking, his gaze lifted from the book in his lap to look around.

The smell had come from a ruggedly handsome man that had walked by him to peruse the history shelves. Dorian’s eyes took in the green and black flannel, sleeves rolled up to the elbows to display muscled forearms. The blond wore a pair of faded jeans that hugged all the right places, boots worn by construction workers, and a simple, black t-shirt that fitted his frame nicely. Dorian watched him read through the titles, pulling a book out here and there to skim through the description and the pages. Dorian glanced around the shop but saw no other customers nearby to catch him blatantly checking the man out. If he craned his neck, he could see Cole cleaning out the machines and Bull flicking through some romance novel.

Dorian’s eyes fell back to the history book he had switched to and tried to focus on the information being presented to him. However, Mr. Lumberjack’s presence so near to his reading spot gave him reason to look back up from under dark lashes and observe the man.

He couldn’t read the cover of the book the blond had pulled from the shelf, but the man had angled his body to lean against the shelf and half-face Dorian while he read. The book was fairly lengthy if the width was anything to go by. For a fleeting moment, Dorian wondered if this man was the type to overcompensate by buying large books he had no intention of reading just to impress guests or lovers. But the book seemed to genuinely interest the man who devoted over an hour to reading the first few chapters. In that hour, Dorian flicked his gaze back and forth between reading his history book and examining the man. Surely if he were trying to impress Dorian or someone else then he wouldn’t spend an _hour_ standing there reading. Dorian had half a mind to invite him over to one of the many open chairs – he couldn’t imagine it was comfortable for the man to remain standing while reading. But despite there being seven open seats, all of which were comfortable, the man had adapted a relaxed stance and remained standing. It vaguely reminded Dorian of those guards in England – the ones who weren’t supposed to move no matter how much you bothered them.

Dorian pondered making a move. At worst the man would turn him down. Rejection was a concept not unknown to Dorian - after all, hadn't his parents given him the worst rejection imaginable? Before he could decide upon what to say to get the man's attention, Bull came striding over. The blond still hadn't looked up from the book he had been reading and didn't seem to notice Bull. The Qunari's voice broke the blond's concentration and startled him. 

“Find something worth spending money on?”

The man gave Bull an annoyed glare at being evidently startled but showed the Qunari the title of the book he had been so engrossed in. The angle in which he showed it to Bull prevented Dorian from reading it.

“My sister’s birthday is coming up and we share a fascination with military history. This author actually knows their stuff.”

_Sweet Maker._

Dorian internally scoffed at the way he felt a faint flush creeping up his spine at the smooth baritone of the man’s voice. It had been a long time since a silky, husky voice had caused him to blush at first words. Dorian could hardly blame himself though - the blond's voice belonged in a porno. Plus, Dorian hadn't gotten laid in a few days and the tension within his body had been building. _Get a grip, Dorian. You'll drool over your new books.  
_

Bull gestured to the book in the man's hands. “The author’s Seattle-born in fact. She’s a piece of work from what I understand. The boss says she fought in the Blight.”

The man nodded as if that explained why all of her information was accurately detailed. Dorian supposed in a way it did. Veterans of the Blight were hard to come by – from what he knew of the event, only a few warriors had made it out alive. Not wanting to appear as if he were overly eavesdropping, Dorian flipped the page in his book and let his eyes scan over the sentences, not truly reading but wanting to make it look like he was. A certain amount of coyness and discretion were called for, after all.

“So…this sister of yours…”

Dorian half-expected the man to get offended – most people did over Bull’s antics – but to his surprise, the blond laughed.

“She’s married with kids, Bull. A bit too monogamous for your liking.”

“Hey, I could do monogamy if the right soul came along.”

Dorian glanced up in time to catch the blond give Bull a skeptical look of evident disbelief. Dorian felt the corners of his mouth twitch up in a smile before he could stop himself. _Oh, I like this one._

“I don’t think I like the smirk on your face, Vint.”

Inwardly cursing Bull's notice of him, Dorian replied smoothly, “I was just thinking that I am rather in line to agree with him on this matter.” He closed his book and nodded to the blond in mention. His smirk grew as he continued, “Monogamy wouldn’t suit you at all. Where would Seattle get its dirty kinks out?”

**XXXX**

_That voice._

Cullen felt a chill creep down his spine. Whether it was out of trepidation or excitement, he wasn’t sure.

_I know that voice._

Cullen's head turned and his gaze took in the man he hadn't noticed sitting in the comfort chairs.  _How long has he been sitting there?_ Now that Cullen had seen him, and, more importantly, _heard him_ , Cullen found he couldn’t look away.

He was only vaguely aware of what Bull and the man were saying to each other. Cullen felt as if his mind was reeling. There was no way that the man sitting in the shag chair wasn’t Dorian Pavus – the host of the show Cullen had listened to nearly every night since coming to Seattle. Granted, voices were slightly distorted over the radio and there was a chance that this man _wasn’t_ him. But what if he was? As Cullen’s eyes traveled across the man’s figure – taking in the styled mustache, the perfectly crisp black hair, the emerald button-down shirt (sleeves rolled up to the elbows), the light grey skinny jeans, and the suede shoes – Cullen decided that there was no way this _wasn’t_ Dorian Pavus. His impeccable dress and the smooth flow of his voice fitted the radio personality to a T.

“…know something or two about the dirty kinks of Seattle,” Bull was saying.

Cullen blinked and tried to compose himself. He had never met a celebrity before – certainly not one whose voice he listened to on a nightly basis. Dorian's show had wormed itself into Cullen's relatively recent routine just as quickly as visiting the bookstore had. How did normal people react upon meeting someone famous? Cullen briefly thought about Rosie and how she'd probably scream and fall at Dorian's feet to kiss his shoes. Inwardly rolling his eyes, Cullen decided in that moment that celebrities were just normal people. Though...there didn't seem to be anything 'normal' about Dorian. Every part of him seemed to stand out. His clothing, his posture, the tone of his voice - everything was laced with confidence. Dorian Pavus was far more striking in person than Cullen could have ever thought possible. 

The man audibly scoffed at Bull and turned his gaze back to Cullen. Green met gold and it felt as if Cullen's world had shifted. Before he could say anything, Bull took the initiative and gestured between the two men. “You two are certainly of one pasture, that’s for sure. Dorian, this is Cullen Rutherford. Rutherford, meet our favorite Vint, Dorian Pavus.”

In one fluid motion that left Cullen rather impressed, Dorian was up from his seat and extending a manicured hand for Cullen to shake.

“Dorian Pavus, at your service.”

Cullen’s handshake was firm as he finally found his voice. “From the radio?” _Smooth, Rutherford, real smooth._

Dorian blinked in surprise, obviously not expecting Cullen to have been a listener, but he quickly covered it with what Cullen assumed was his regular suave grin. “Ah, always a pleasure to meet a fan.”

Cullen felt his face heating up and couldn’t do anything to stop it. “I, ah, listen on occasion. I work nights and early mornings and it provides…entertainment.”

Dorian laughed openly at the strangled way Cullen said the word ‘entertainment’ and let his hand, which had still been holding Cullen’s, dip into the pocket of his grey jeans. “Well that is certainly one way to put it. I’m glad it amuses you.”

“I didn't mean it in a bad way," Cullen replied too quickly. _Get a grip, man!_ "Your advice is spot-on,” Cullen clarified. “A lot of people could learn a thing or two by listening to you.”

**XXXXX**

_And what have you learned?_ The words were nearly out of his mouth before Bull interrupted with a booming laugh.

“Don’t go inflating his ego any more, Rutherford. I don’t think his skinny frame could take it.”

Dorian shot the Qunari a glare before turning his gaze back to Cullen. The man was even more handsome up close. An old scar on his lip brought Dorian’s gaze fleetingly to the man’s kissable lips before his eyes dragged back up to meet Cullen’s.

“Ignoring Bull’s nonsense, I thank you for the compliment. Isabela and I try to do the Maker’s work.” The dismal way Dorian said it brought a surprised laugh out of Cullen. The blond's eyes widened slightly at his own reaction and Dorian felt his grin turn even more genuine. _Oh, this one is too precious._ Shifting his stance, Dorian nodded to the chairs. “You could have taken a seat rather than stand around reading.”

Cullen blinked and glanced at the chairs as if the thought hadn’t even occurred to him. “Maker, was I really hovering for that long?”

“Long enough for me to notice you.”

There. The flirtation was out in the open. It struck Dorian that Bull might find it awkward to watch Dorian flirt with a stranger in front of him, but the Qunari had bowed out of the conversation without so much as a good-bye. Dorian both cursed and thanked the Qunari for his excellent sneaking abilities. For such a large figure, Bull certainly knew how to appear and disappear without qualms.

The blush on Cullen's face deepened – the color reaching the tips of his ears and the sides of his neck – and Dorian had half a mind to reach out and cup the man's face. He withheld the urge - barely.

“Right. Sorry about that - I got rather absorbed in this book, I'm afraid," Cullen stammered out. 

_Not one to notice flirtation, I see. Or maybe he's trying to let me down easy?_ Dorian nodded his head back at the pile of books he had left on the chair. “I completely understand. It was your aroma that broke my own concentration. Wood smoke?”

Cullen blinked and his eyes widened in horror as if the smell had somehow offended Dorian. He opened his mouth to probably utter some nonsense apologies but Dorian held up a hand to stop him. Giving a small laugh, Dorian continued, “I enjoy it, don’t worry. Are you a firefighter then?”

Cullen still seemed sheepish, and the blush hadn’t left his face, but he shook his head as a soft smile slowly claimed his lips. “No, I’m something of a carpenter. I work in a wood shop that does a lot of burning for artistry and decorum and the like. I didn't have time to change after work."

Dorian waved it off. “As I said, I quite enjoy it. If nothing else, we at least now know one another’s professions.” Glancing down at the cover of the book Cullen had been holding and finally reading the title, Dorian decided to take a risk. “I’m something of a history aficionado myself. Perhaps we could get fresh coffee and swap interests.”

**XXXXXX**

Cullen’s eyes widened at the request. Surely there was no way on this planet that Dorian Pavus, the social elite of Seattle’s socialite world, wanted to spend his time with _Cullen_. A _fan of the show_ no less. Not that Dorian particularly _had_ any reason to think himself better than Cullen - Cullen hated people like that - but the two of them had only just met. But Cullen felt that maybe, for once, fate was playing itself into his hands. Deciding to save the overthinking for later and try to enjoy the _here and now_ of it all, Cullen gave a firm nod and a grin.

“I’d like that.”

**XXXXXX**

Dorian didn’t miss seeing Bull reappear in his peripheral vision and shoot him a large, supportive grin.


	3. Interested

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the long wait on this! I started a new job that I've been swamped with. I'm working on the next chapter after this one now so expect a quick update.

Cullen Rutherford was unlike any man Dorian had spent time with in a long time. Granted, the majority of his one-on-one time spent with men in Seattle was during one-night stands or quickies before work. Not only was the blond well-educated, intelligent, and funny, but he also had a slight innocence about him that Dorian found refreshing. Cullen wasn't the brash and vulgar type Dorian had become accustomed to seeing - instead, the blond was rather fascinating in his own way. They had been talking for Maker knew how long about all different types of historical books they enjoyed. It turned out that Cullen had read the majority of the books Dorian recommended - something that both impressed Dorian and gave him pause. Cullen, with his lumberjack look, was hardly the stereotypical dud Dorian had half-expected him to eventually turn out to be. _I've become too used to disappointment, I suppose_ , Dorian thought to himself. He could half-hear Isabela taunting him now for judging people before getting to know them. Yet despite the fact that minutes turned into hours, Dorian could not pull himself away from the conversation and his company. Cullen was...refreshing. A very pleasant surprise on what had been a somewhat dismal day.

"I've always found reading to be a healthy form of escapism from life's problems," Cullen was saying. He paused to take a sip of his coffee before continuing, "Even when I had nothing, I had my ability to read and time on my hands. It proved therapeutic."

Dorian nodded in agreement. He could certainly understand that. When his father had repeatedly sent him to bed with no supper after Dorian refused to meet potential brides, Dorian had had nothing but his books to keep him company. Part of him wanted to ask what Cullen had tried to escape from but Dorian kept his lips closed on the matter. Cullen looked relaxed talking to Dorian and the talk show host didn't want to build up walls after conversing for so long. Everyone was entitled to their dark secrets. Dorian certainly had enough of his own.

"I don't suppose such a rough and tough brute like yourself is into poetry," Dorian commented, hiding his smirk behind his coffee mug.

Cullen laughed and it made Dorian's smile grow wider. Cullen seemed the type who had life beat him down so often that when mirth came to him, it surprised him. And Dorian enjoyed surprising him.

"I admit that my sister is far more into it than I but I have dabbled. A friend of mine gave me a collection of her favorite works before I moved here a few months ago but sadly I haven't really taken the time to read the entire thing."

"You haven't been in Seattle long, then?"

"Ah, no, just a few months. You?"

_Interesting that he doesn't elaborate_ , Dorian thought to himself before replying, "Oh, I've been here for three months or so now. But you probably know that from listening to my show."

Again that curious little blush returned to Cullen's face as he replied, "I didn't much listen to KACL when I first moved here. I didn't much listen to anything, really. It was only by accident that I stumbled across your show. One night my car's engine stalled on my way to work and while I was waiting for it to work, I decided to flick through the stations for something to occupy my attention. That's when I first heard your show."

Dorian raised an eyebrow. "Got hooked right away, did you?"

Cullen chuckled nervously as he ran a hand through his hair, causing the locks to stick up slightly. Dorian drank in the sight like a dying man in the desert. _Get a hold of yourself, man. You can't just go running your hands through a stranger's luscious locks!_

"Something like that. It was unlike anything I had ever listened to before. At first I was just surprised and amused but your advice _did_ make sense. After that night, listening to your show became something of a habit. My nighttime job is rather mundane and I'm not one for music, so listening to talk radio helps ease the silence."

Dorian could understand that. He himself hated silence.

"Working two jobs sounds terribly exhausting."

Cullen shrugged. "It keeps me active. I like being busy."

"Not too busy to have dinner with me, I hope? Or we could do lunch, depending on your schedule."

**XXXXXXX**

Cullen's eyes widened in surprise at the question. The afternoon had been going wonderfully - talking to Dorian had proved enchanting and enlightening. He now knew a little bit more about the talk show host than he had figured out by listening to him nightly. Not only did Dorian have a vast knowledge of literature and the arts, but the man was quite easy to talk to. Cullen found himself relaxing in ways he hadn't in _years_. A small part of Cullen had hoped that Dorian would want to converse with him again, but the talk show host always had seemed like the one night stand kind of guy. Now, however, Dorian was asking him out on what - on a date? Cullen was floored. Had Dorian enjoyed their shared time together as much as he had? What did it all mean? Why was he overthinking everything?

_Because you have depression and anxiety and it can't possibly be as easy as it seems_ , his brain supplied unhelpfully.

"Dinner sounds lovely," Cullen replied quickly, realizing that he may have taken a moment too long to answer. He didn't want Dorian to think he wasn't interested (or frankly give Dorian time to rescind his offer). "I'll probably be heading to work when you need to head to the station."

Dorian gave him his signature charming smile. "Does Friday at 7 work for you? I hope you like Italian."

Cullen felt his heart beating wildly in his chest. "Sounds great. Where shall we meet?"

"Morano's? On the corner of Fifth and Seventh? They just changed their menu and I've been dying to give it a try."

Cullen swallowed. The place was a bit on the pricier side but it wasn't every day that he was asked to have dinner with his wet dream. "I'm looking forward to it."

Dorian stood, taking his pile of books that he had long since forgotten about with him, and held out his hand for Cullen to shake. "It's a date then. It was a pleasure meeting you, Cullen Rutherford."

Cullen took the hand offered to him to shake and gave a soft, personal smile. "It was nice meeting you too, Dorian Pavus."

**XXXXXXX**

"Good evening, Seattle! This is Dorian Pavus here and, as always, I'm listening. I'd like to start off our show tonight with a segment taken from one of my favorite Oscar Wilde poems." Dorian cleared his throat and recited from memory, "'And we two lovers shall not sit afar/ Critics of nature, but the joyous sea/ Shall be our raiment, and the bearded star/ Shoot arrows at our pleasure! We shall be/ Part of the mighty universal whole/ And through all Aeons mix and mingle with the Kosmic Soul!' Isabela, who is our first caller?"

Dorian's co-host raised her eyebrows in surprise and silent wonder at him. For Dorian Pavus to be quoting poetry, something joyous must have happened to him earlier in the day. Why hadn't he said anything to her before they started airing? Turning back to the line in front of her, Isabela decided to save her questions for when they went to commercial break. "On line one we have George who is looking for advice on how to give his boyfriend a better blowjob."

"Fantastic!" Dorian grinned. "I do love starting off the show with a good discussion about blowjobs. I myself am quite knowledgeable in the art. How's it going, George?"

**XXXXXXX**

Cullen smirked to himself. He had absolutely no doubt in his mind that Dorian was in fact _quite knowledgeable_.

The office was relatively scarce of people and it made Cullen's life a lot easier. He could navigate through the cubicles and hallways with his supplies much faster as he went about cleaning and listening to Dorian's show. He wondered if the poem Dorian had recited was for his benefit - like a nod to Cullen who Dorian must have known would be listening. Rolling his eyes, Cullen couldn't believe how much Dorian Pavus had gotten under his skin after only one afternoon of talking. _You’re sounding like an excitable schoolboy. Get your head out of your ass._

“It helps if you get it nice and slick first,” Dorian was saying over the air. “Though some chaps prefer dry masturbation, your mouth is naturally a wet and hot space. Blowjobs are meant to be wet and tastefully messy. Wouldn’t you agree, Isabela?”

“I’ve never had a man complain about _my_ wet and messy blowjobs,” Isabela quipped into her mic.

Dorian chuckled and the topic of conversation, as well as the sound of Dorian’s throaty chuckle, did unsettling things to Cullen’s libido. It wouldn’t be the first time he got hard at work listening to Dorian’s show. Cullen secretly reveled in it on the rare occasion when it happened – he would _never_ have been able to think these thoughts at his old job.

Then again, he also would never have any reason to think lewd thoughts at his old job. Too many people around him had been falling.

It was like a sweet little reminder that here in Seattle, his life was different now. Cullen didn’t need to be the tightass commander responsible for so much suffering. Or at least…not openly. Shaking his head to rid himself of the dark thoughts before things worsened, Cullen turned his attention back to the show.

“My advice is shave the area around the base of your dick. It’ll be weird the first time you do it guys, but nothing is less enticing than a mouthful of hair.”

“Do you preen, Dorian?”

“I’m not a savage, Bela.”

The flippant way he said it made Cullen laugh to himself. A passing late-night office worker made Cullen remember where he was. Pursing his lips to hide his mirth, Cullen took out a bottle of Windex to clean the glass separating the cubicles.

“I once shaved my pussy in a zig zag pattern.”

“Bela, no shame, but if the police ever wanted to capture you, they’d just have to put up a picture of your pussy because everyone’s seen it.”

“Hmm. You’re probably right.”

**XXXXXXX**

Dorian had been ignoring the looks Isabela had been casting him during the show. But as soon as they cut to commercial, she had him cornered.

“So…who’s the mystery man?”

“I haven’t the foggiest idea what you mean.”

Isabela leaned forward against their shared table, exposing her breasts to any innocent bystander that might be walking by the windows of their room. There were often many ‘innocent’ bystanders that just so happened to be ‘passing by’ their room when Dorian and Isabela were on air.

“Darling, I haven’t seen you this giddy since Bull reamed you so good you came in limping for a week.”

Dorian huffed and swiveled away from her so that she couldn’t see his face. “Ironic that you should make that comparison since it was Bull who introduced us. We met in his bookshop this afternoon. It wasn't planned - at least, not that I know of. No, I don't think it was planned.”

“Ooooh, how juicy! Did you clean up with some smutty literature after you were done shagging in the storage room?”

“Bela!” Dorian shouted scandalized. Rolling his eyes with a fond smile, he said, “No, nothing like that. We didn’t bang at first sight.”

Isabela raised an eyebrow, clearly confused. “I didn’t think Bull knew anyone in all of Seattle that wasn’t the ‘bang first, talk later if at all’ type.”

Shrugging, Dorian fiddled with the hem of his shirt. “He didn’t strike me as the quickie type. In fact I think he’s the type who needs to be wooed before he’s bedded.”

“ _Wooed_? That’s so…”

“Lame?”

“No! Maker, no! It’s…romantic. I’m guessing there was something special about this one? You don't quite seem yourself about the whole thing.”

Dorian thought about lying to her but he knew she would see through him in a heartbeat. When he didn’t reply right away, Isabela gently took hold of his swivel chair and turned his body to face hers. Squatting down so that she could look into his eyes, Isabela waited for him to fess up.

“We talked for hours, Bela,” Dorian muttered under his breath. “He’s really smart – way smarter than anyone I usually mess around with. He’s got this like tragic backstory lumberjack vibe going on and…”

“And…?”

“And we have a date on Friday.”

Isabela made a noise that resembled a very shrill parakeet. Quickly putting a hand over her mouth, Dorian hissed at her to be quiet. When she had composed herself, Dorian pulled away and slumped back into his chair.

“What does it matter? It’s just one date. If it’s terrible then we go our separate ways. No big deal.”

Isabela didn’t seem to think it wasn’t a big deal if the huge, shit-eating grin on her face was anything to go by. Softly, she whispered kindly, “Dorian, this is wonderful! It’s about time you got back out there.”

“It’s not like I _wasn’t_ purposefully being… ‘out there’ as you put it. I just haven’t met anyone that caught my eye.”

“Until today.”

“Yeah,” Dorian sighed, looking down at the desk. “I’m purposefully _not_ getting super worked up over it but I _do_ hope this date goes well. He really…well, he’s handsome, I’ll give him that.”

Isabela was beaming as she took her seat and gestured for Dorian to take up his mic. They were almost out of commercial time.

“I hope it goes really well for you," she said sincerely and he knew she meant it. Isabela was always hoping Dorian would meet the love of his life. "Next commercial you’re telling me about his shoe size if you catch my drift.”

Rolling his eyes at his best friend’s antics, Dorian picked up his mic and cleared his voice.

They had a show to do after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a review!


	4. Preparing for the Date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in one week? I must be mad! Nah, it's only because I had a slower weekend and Martin Luther King Day off from work here in the States. As always, I hope you like it!! The build up is real.

"You seem distracted. Did something happen?"

Cullen side-eyed Blackwall. "What do you mean?"

"I mean you seem more reserved than normal. I know you're a shy guy but today you seem...I don't know. Different?"

Cullen swallowed uncomfortably. He hadn't been able to get thoughts of Dorian and their impending date off of his mind. His anxiety had reared its ugly head the morning after their fateful encounter and Cullen hadn't been able to shake it. What if this was all a disaster waiting to happen? What if it went terribly? He didn't want to look like an ass in front of Dorian.

"I...may have a date on Friday."

"Ahh..." Blackwall trailed off understandingly. The master carpenter leaned his back against the work table with his hands on the wood and his face turned towards Cullen. "And you're nervous as all hell, right?"

"It...may have been a while since I've been on a date," Cullen confessed, scratching his chin self-consciously.

Blackwall openly laughed, a deep and baritone chuckle that sounded rich. "Trust me, my friend, not much has changed. Is it a nice place you're going to?"

"Mariano's."

Blackwall whistled. "Better wear a suit if you don't want the snobby penny-pushers of Seattle sneering down at you. If you need one, I know a very talented lady that could hook you up. She has her own shop on this side of town."

Part of the reason why Cullen's anxiety had spiked was because the only suit he owned was the one he had worn at the funerals of fallen comrades after his discharge. He hadn't gone in dress blues. How could he? He had been too ashamed to wear the uniform. He couldn't very well put on that same suit for his date with Dorian, but he also didn't have any spare change to go out and buy a new one. Why hadn't he suggested to Dorian that they just go for pizza or something more laid back? Without a dress code? _Because why would Dorian Pavus want to go for something as low-class as pizza?_ Cullen shook his head, trying to clear the negative thoughts. Dorian was a human being, not some sex god to be put on some metaphorical pedestal.

"It won't be too pricey, will it?"

Blackwall laughed. "Not at all. Leliana isn't in the business to make money. She has...a bit more romantic reasoning for tailoring. You'll be fine."

"Thank you Blackwall," Cullen whispered. It wasn't often that he had people there to truly help him out.

The carpenter shrugged and waved Cullen off. "Nah, it's no problem. I'm just glad you're getting out there." Grabbing a piece of paper, Blackwall wrote down an address. "Here's my friend's shop. Leliana can dress absolutely anyone to look like a ten. She's wicked talented, that girl is."

**XXXXXX**

After his shift at the wood shop, Cullen nervously pushed open the door of the tailor shop and the little jingle of the bell attached to the door startled him. Composing himself, he took a deep breath and wandered inside. It was much smaller than other tailor shops he had been to – not that he had been to many. There were a few display racks and mannequins of varying sizes wearing elegant suits of various colors. Two stands had been built into the floor to allow models to step up and admire themselves surrounded by mirrors to view every angle. A sales desk was a bit farther back in the shop. Behind the counter, a pretty woman with short, auburn-colored hair looked up at Cullen with a smile in greeting.

“Hello! What can I do for you today?”

Her voice was clearly French – maybe of the Orlesian province? - and Cullen had half a mind to wonder if all the big names of the Seattle fashionite world came from other places. Dorian certainly knew a thing or two about fashion and he wasn’t born in the States. At least if he had been, why would Bull have referred to him as a Vint?

“Um, your shop came recommended to me by a friend of mine. Blackwall? I need a suit…”

“Oh yes! He told me a friend of his would be stopping by! I didn’t think Blackwall had such handsome friends, but I suppose good looks are easy to find in a town like this. What’s the occasion? I’m Leliana,” the woman said kindly as she stepped out from behind the counter. She wore a lovely white skirt covered in lilac flowers and a blouse that reminded Cullen of the ones he would often see countryside gals wearing into town. Odd that someone so bent on high fashion would wear something so relatively plain. As Leliana passed by him to grab a measuring tape, he glanced down at the floor and caught sight of what looked like a rather expensive pair of custom-tailored boots on her feet. _Ah, there’s the class shining._

“I…well if you must know, I have a date. It’s at a rather high-end restaurant and –”

“Mariano’s?” Leliana asked knowingly. The smile touched her eyes as she explained, “It’s all the rage with new couples these days. I’ve been very busy making sure that you gentlemen have only the finest of linens for the establishment.”

“Yes, um, right. That’s it,” Cullen supplied rather embarrassingly. Had Dorian invited him there knowing that the place was famous for hosting new couples? Was that what Dorian wanted them to be? A new wave of panic surged through Cullen. Dating was supposed to be easy. Why couldn’t it be simpler?

Leliana seemed to notice the change in his demeanor and steered him toward the wooden platform to stand on. “Please raise your arms a bit for me. Yes, just like that. This will only take a moment. Do you have an idea of what you’re looking for today?”

“Sadly no, I’m afraid,” Cullen replied, watching her crouch down beside him to take his measurements. “Nothing too pricey if possible. I work two jobs and –”

“A friend of Blackwall’s is a friend of mine,” Leliana cut in quickly. Lifting her gaze to meet Cullen’s in the mirror, she smiled at him. She had a very pretty smile. “Don’t worry. You’ll still be able to afford the monthly rent. I’m thinking a crimson suit – very dark – with a black shirt and a silver tie. The red will counterplay those blond locks quite beautifully.”

Cullen didn’t have a moment to answer before Leliana was hurrying off to a nearby rack of clothes and fetching a color sample to hold up to Cullen’s frame for him to imagine. He had to admit that the color did look very nice against his skin. Nodding his consent to her, he nervously watched as she moved to head to a back room.

“Be back soon!” she called back to him.

Feeling rather out of place and not knowing what to do with himself, Cullen wandered around the shop for a bit, skimming glances over the materials on the display racks. Leliana was indeed quite talented – especially if she made all of these garments by hand. He vaguely wondered what Dorian would be wearing. _Probably something incredible, no doubt_.

Cullen jumped when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He had a moment to feel guilty at not telling Mia about his plans and all that had happened when he saw her name pop up on the screen. Flicking the phone open, he read the text:

**[There’s a charity auction this weekend if you’re free to raise money for Anders’s. It won’t be black tie or anything fancy so no need to feel uncomfortable! I myself am wearing jeans to it.]**

Cullen couldn’t help but smile. Last year when Anders had held a similar charity auction for his animal hospital, he had shown the local kids how to properly pet small animals and not startle them. It had been a rather adorable day watching his nieces and nephews _ooh_ and _aah_ over the pets. Plus Anders and Mia were like two peas in a pod so there was no way Cullen could say no. He typed back:

**[Day and time?]**

He paused and contemplated telling his sister about his plans before realizing that she would probably skin him alive if he didn’t tell her and she somehow found out. Mia was clever like that.

**[I have plans Friday night.]**

It took less than half a minute before a new text came through and he read:

**[Plans? On a Friday night? Do you have a date???]**

Grinning, he replied: **[As a matter of fact, yes. I’ll tell you about it after.]**

The reply message from Mia took a bit longer to be received by him.

**[I wish you all the luck! You’ll have to tell me about it at the auction. Sunday at 2.]**

Cullen texted his thanks and assurance that he would be there and pocketed his phone. It wasn’t long before Leliana came back out holding a garment bag. Unzipping the bag, she displayed the suit to him.

“What do you think?”

Cullen’s breath was stolen. It clearly showed on his face because Leliana giggled before closing the bag back up and handing it carefully to him. Cullen took the garment bag as if it was a sacrifice for some old god.

“I don’t deserve something this beautiful.”

Giving him a gentle smile of understanding, Leliana steered him to the register to ring him up. “You’ll make it shine as if it was laced with magic.”

**XXXXXX**

The week surprisingly went by in a rush for Dorian. He had debated buying a new suit to add to his collection for the occasion but the suits he had were already phenomenal. Why change perfection? All too soon Dorian was standing in front of the mirror in his apartment, freshly showered and pampered, with nothing but a towel slung low around his hips. He was alternating between suits when his phone rang. Gently laying one of the many options back on his bed, he traded the suit for his phone.

"Dorian Pavus."

"Let me guess. You're standing in front of your mirror deciding whether your wear the purple suit of sex or the green suit of sex with the gold trim. Am I correct?"

Rolling his eyes affectionately, Dorian put his phone on speaker and tossed it onto the bed so that he could pick the dress shirt back up.

"You know me too well, Bela. I like to look good for my dates. Not that I ever look bad for anybody. I think it's honestly impossible."

Isabela sighed heavily on the other side. "That is true. Even when you came in hungover from Varric's New Year's Eve party still covered in vomit and cigarette ashes you looked incredible."

Grinning at the memory, Dorian held one shirt up to his bare chest and then another. "I really don't know which one I should wear to this thing. The green compliments my eyes but I think the purple one hugs my figure better."

"Stop being such a diva. _All_ of your shirts fit your figure spectacularly. That's what you pay your tailors for."

"Hmm. That is true. Well you are absolutely no help then. Why are you calling?"

"I thought you might be nervous. Thought you'd want to talk before you go out."

"Nervous? Pah! What do _I_ have to be nervous about?"

Silence met him on the other end and Dorian quietly sighed. He _was_ nervous. And it was ridiculous. He was Dorian Pavus! The sex god of Seattle! "It's just a quick dinner before we both go to work. A chance to spend more time together - I'm not asking him for commitment or anything."

"How long has it been since you went on a genuine date, Dorian? One that _didn't_ involve sex the same night?"

Dorian didn't answer her. They both knew the answer to that question.

The last person had been Bull.

And before that, Rilienus. Who Dorian had wanted to propose to.

"Nobody's saying this _doesn't_ have to end in sex," Dorian tried to argue. "Maybe he'll be so taken with my blatant sex appeal that he'll want a blowjob in the bathroom."

Dorian didn't have to see her to know she was quirking an eyebrow in disbelief. The suggestion sounded phony even to him. Cullen wasn't that type. 

"I'm not concerned with whether or not it ends _badly_. I'm concerned about it ending _well_. What if it goes _really_ well? I haven't...it's been -"

"I know," Isabela cut him off gently. "But you _need_ this, Dorian. This will be good for you. Just give it a try and see how it goes."

"Maker help me," Dorian muttered to himself as he threw both suits onto the bed before walking away.

He immediately turned around and picked up the purple suit.


	5. The Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They have their date!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone who doesn't know, Transcendentalism was a movement in literature that featured many famous authors and focused on turning away from the norm. I highly encourage anyone who has a passion for lit to explore it. You don't need to know much about it for this chapter to make sense, but I think it adds a delicious little something extra. 
> 
> I'm sorry for the long delay. For the past few months I was in a dreadful job situation that sucked the soul out of me and made my depression skyrocket to new heights. Writing was very difficult and I didn't have much time for it. But now that I only have a few weeks left, I am getting back into the swing of it with all of my stories and all of the one-shots I wish to write.
> 
> As always, thank you for sticking with me, and I hope you enjoy this chapter.

_This is a terrible idea._

_I should turn around and head home before he shows up._

_What am I_ doing _here?_

Cullen wrapped his hand around a nearby stop sign pole and tried to stop himself from hyperventilating. He was still a block away from Morano’s but he could tell that the restaurant was terribly crowded. There were even a few couples waiting outside of the restaurant’s entrance waiting for a seat. He knew Dorian would have made reservations so there wouldn’t be a wait. But still, to imagine being surrounded by so many people _on the first date_ was a bit unnerving. Dorian was surely the epitome of extroverted. Cullen figured the talk-show host probably attended the most elite of social events and could work a crowd like nobody’s business.

Cullen suffered from social anxiety.

He had purposely arrived almost half an hour early to the date so that he could scope out the scene and get his wits about him before Dorian showed up, but the longer Cullen stayed propped up against the stop sign, the quicker his resolve weakened.

The couples ahead of him, from what he could make out under the streetlights, were all beautiful people. They were all impeccably dressed and ranged all ages and sexes of couples. Cullen glanced down at his own attire. He wasn’t so naïve to believe that Leliana didn’t know her stuff – he looked incredible thanks to her tailoring. But somehow Cullen felt a bit duller in comparison to the sleek dresses and handsome smiles he saw across the street.

Another surge of unease passed through him. He could easily bail and then what? Dorian could easily set his sights on anyone else in the vicinity of the restaurant. Dorian could _easily_ move on.

Maybe Blackwall had the woodshop open late? Cullen could just change and go work for a few hours.

_No._

Cullen _needed_ this. He needed to get back out there. His sister had been adamant in convincing him of that. But he had so many scars. Both physically _and_ emotionally.

Cullen leaned over and nearly threw up.

Suddenly a very sporty, charcoal Jaguar pulled up to the restaurant. With a deep-seated dread, Cullen slowly looked up and watched as the passenger got out and nodded to a valet to park his car around the corner.

Cullen felt his breath leave his body.

Dorian looked _gorgeous_. Although, that shouldn’t really be surprising. His suit _must_ have been personally tailored for his body because it hugged his figure beautifully. Cullen subconsciously ran a hand across the back of his neck. He couldn’t chicken out now. Dorian didn’t deserve to get stood up.

Cullen didn’t have a choice, though. As he struggled with his inner demons, Dorian looked around and spotted him. Giving a brilliant smile, the talk show host waved and Cullen felt his feet moving without his consent. Soon he was across the street and in front of the restaurant. His heart was pounding a mile a minute.

Dorian openly drank in the sight of Cullen as the blond stepped under the streetlight’s glow. He raked his eyes up and down Cullen’s figure appreciatively.

“Boy, when you clean up, you _clean up_. You look marvelous.”

Cullen blushed at the praise and rubbed the back of his neck again. “As do you. You seem to have a pleasant habit of making every outfit shine.”

Dorian gave him one of his rare, genuine smiles in reply and offered his arm. “Shall we?”

Cullen swallowed past the lump in his throat and took Dorian’s arm. The man emitted a warmth that was reassuring. As the two entered the restaurant, Cullen couldn’t stop his years of training from kicking in. He quickly did a once and twice-over of the restaurant, but, after seeing nobody of suspicion or recognition, he turned his attention back to Dorian. His date – his _date!!_ – was exchanging pleasantries with the waiter who led them to their table. Cullen was relieved that it was a spot further back, away from the thick of the crowds, into a more private section. A jazz band was currently playing a soft, calming melody on a stage about ten feet away from their table. There were half-walls that sectioned off the tables on two sides to allow greater privacy. Cullen wasn’t surprised to see candlesticks – real candlesticks – on each table. Out of habit, Cullen took the chair that allowed him to look out into the larger area of the restaurant and view all incoming foot traffic.

“I’ve only been here twice, but on both occasions, the food was absolutely divine,” Dorian began, taking up a menu. “If they still have it, I recommend the quail. Isabella has informed me that their smoked salmon has an aphrodisiac quality that will leave you stoned off your ass in pleasure, though I have discovered that her tastes have a slightly…quirky nature to them.”

Cullen smirked in response and he picked up a menu. The food was grouped into sections by whatever the main ingredient of the dish was – fish, poultry, steak – and had both an English translation and an Italian translation.

“It has been a while since I’ve seen a dual-menu.”

“Ah, yes. I tend to have a fondness for that sort of thing. Each time I come here I can count on learning a new word in a foreign language.”

“Are you something of a linguist, then?”

“I dabble here and there.”

Cullen looked up over the menu and his eyes caught Dorian’s with an easy smile.

Cullen felt himself slowly remembering how to zen.

“May I get you gentlemen something to drink?”

Cullen had seen the waiter approaching and wasn’t startled but Dorian seemed momentarily caught off-guard. He quickly recovered by giving the waiter a pleasant smile.

“A bottle of your Tevinter Merlot, please. And two waters.”

The waiter gave a small bow and whisked off. Cullen looked back at his date and found Dorian’s eyes were already upon him. But they weren’t calculating or piercing – instead, his date’s gaze was thoughtful. But not in a negative way.

“Does Tevinter have fine wine, then?”

Something glinted in Dorian’s eyes as he smiled. “The best. I remember vineyards stretching miles on end. Sadly, I have had very few wines since coming to Seattle that can compare. Although the beer is…something of an acquired taste.”

Cullen laughed at that. “Yes, I can imagine the strong IPAs here are a bit much for your dainty tastes.”

Dorian chuckled. “The first time I visited a brewery in Washington, I thought I was going to puke. But the beer, like everything else about this city and this state, grew something terrible on me.” Dorian pointedly looked away from Cullen and gazed around the room, taking in the band, the full tables, and the cheerful environment. “Tevinter has many beautiful aspects, but it doesn’t have…this.”

Cullen nodded in understanding. “When I first came to Seattle, I spent nearly every day visiting the Space Needle for no other reason than to remind myself I was somewhere _new_. I spent nearly an entire night just sitting on a bench at its base, mesmerized by the lights surrounding it. This city is very cathartic.”

Dorian blinked, but his gaze gave nothing away.

Their drinks arrived. Once their glasses had been poured and their food ordered, Dorian lifted his wineglass to Cullen. The blond clinked his glass in response and sipped.

The wine was indeed bloody fantastic.

Something in his expression must have given him away because Dorian grinned before laughing. “I told you – Tevinter wines are exquisite.”

Cullen smiled in response. He couldn’t help it.

**XXXXX**

“Do you like jazz?”

Cullen nodded, the wine coursing gently through his body, giving him a pleasant feeling. It wasn’t the strongest of stuff, but that wasn’t the intention of this evening. “I generally enjoy almost all types of music, as probably plain as that sounds. I grew up in a relatively small town where church songs and country music were pretty prevalent. My sisters _adore_ heavy metal so I was exposed to that a lot and it grew on me.”

Dorian chuckled. “I could not possibly imagine having to listen to any of that at _any_ given time of day.”

“That’s true. From the show I’ve been able to determine that your tastes lean a bit more towards hipster.”

“Oh? And what else have you been able to decipher about me?”

Cullen worried briefly that he had touched on a sensitive issue but the wiggle of Dorian’s eyebrow and the sultry smile on his lips convinced him to breathe again.

**XXXXXX**

Dorian wondered what Cullen’s response to his question would be. He briefly pondered if it would be something sexy like, “That you’re a brilliant kisser.” Or, “You’re a man who knows what he wants. I find that incredibly sexy.” Or anything that the dozens of men Dorian had conversed with before might have thrown at him.

Instead, Cullen paused to take another bite of his quail and thought as he chewed. Eventually, he said something that floored Dorian.

“You’re a Transcendentalist.”

For a moment, Dorian’s face did something funny. It went completely blank. Then, as the statement sunk into his very bones, Dorian felt something spark low in his belly. Suddenly he wasn’t just physically attracted to Cullen’s lumberjack figure.

Dorian wanted to reach across the table and ravish Cullen’s very soul.

To cover up his emotionally constipated state, Dorian let out a bark of laughter that sounded off even to his own ears. Quickly smiling and controlling himself, he lifted his wineglass to his lips to somewhat hide his face.

“See me as a Hawthorne, do you?”

Cullen grinned back and Dorian felt his heart bang harshly against his ribs.

“Not so much a Hawthorne as a Melville, I’m afraid.”

Dorian was smitten. He absolutely adored any and all works by Herman Melville and felt deeply connected to many of the ideals he wrote about. For Cullen to so quickly perceive him, and to do it in such a manner…

Dorian licked his lips after he took a sip of wine. A very deep, dark part of him warned him against wearing his heart on his sleeve. Refusing to allow Cullen this one, very personal victory, Dorian asked instead, “And what of you? Are you a Hawthorne or a Melville?”

“I prefer Thoreau. The idea of simple living appeals to me.”

_You_ cannot _offer to give him a blowjob under the table. You absolutely_ can. Not.

**XXXX**

They finished their meal in companionable silence. The bottle had not been terribly large and they had finished it together. Dorian had called for the check and, as they waited, they seemed to just _look_ at each other.

Dorian was convinced that he hadn’t had as satisfactory a date since Rilenius. Though, he wouldn’t be confessing that to anyone save Isabella for quite some time.

Cullen was convinced that, despite his inner demons telling him he was somehow fucking it up, Dorian made him feel… _alive_. And pleasantly so. Their conversations had been enjoyable and never strayed into personal information, such as back stories, like Cullen had feared they would have. Although Dorian had largely led the conversation, Cullen felt as though he had been shown a softer side to the talk show host.

It had definitely been worth crossing the street and taking that risk.

When the check came, Cullen reached for it but with a clearly practiced flourish, Dorian slipped in a credit card and handed the folder back to the waiter without ever breaking eye contact with Cullen.

“I hope I haven’t damaged your masculinity,” Dorian teased with a glint in his eyes.

Cullen couldn’t help but smile. “On the contrary, I find you and your magical hand motions very charming.”

Dorian wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and Cullen smirked.

**XXXXX**

Once they were back out on the street, Cullen found himself following Dorian to where the valet had parked his very expensive Jaguar in a private lot.

“I suppose it’s that time.”

Dorian sighed in response, but his lips were quirked in a smile at the edges. “Yes, I suppose it is. Isabella will want to know all about how tonight went, I’m sure.”

“And what will you tell her, I wonder?”

“Oh, a bit of this and that,” Dorian teased as he leaned casually against his car. “It will be difficult to get the very striking image of you in that suit out of my head while we’re on air, I’m afraid.”

There was something about Dorian’s relaxed and content stance that brought a surge of confidence out of Cullen. “Perhaps we could continue this revelry another time?”

Dorian’s gaze softened into a gentle smile. Cullen immediately thought he was going to be rejected until Dorian whispered, “I would like that…very much.”

Cullen knew he should turn around and go. They both had to get to their respected jobs. However, he slowly leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on Dorian’s cheek. Dorian’s cologne smelled amazing and his skin felt soft against his lips. Cullen wanted more. Instead of giving in to his urges, Cullen slowly pulled away with a smile. Dorian’s breath had stalled and his pupils had dilated. He looked just as surprised at Cullen’s boldness as Cullen felt.

“Goodnight, Dorian. Good luck with your show,” Cullen whispered in what sounded like a far more sultry voice than he intended. Slowly he moved away from Dorian, walking backwards, heart hammering in his chest. He hadn't died. Nobody had gotten killed. Dorian didn't hate him. The night hadn't been a disaster!

As Dorian seemed to recover from his momentary pause, Cullen cast him one last smile before turning and exiting the lot.

Dorian was hard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if there are any typos, I created this chapter very late at night and have to sleep soon because I have an early day at work tomorrow but I wanted to post it because of how excited I was to write it. I know that many of you have been waiting a very long time for this, and I hope that you all enjoyed it. (Please leave a comment and let me know!) 
> 
> I like to imagine that Cullen needs someone that helps bring him out of his shell. He's still going to struggle a lot in this fic, but I think when conversations and dates go well, they help to alleviate some of his inner struggles.
> 
> Also, if anyone wishes to talk to me about this fic, design fic art for it, or you just want to generally shout into the void about cullrian, you can hmu at swankaliciouschekov.tumblr.com.


	6. Tides

“Put out, did you?”

Dorian ignored the rib but he couldn’t wipe the smile off of his face. Plopping a seat down in his chair and kicking his feet up onto the table, he leaned back with ease. “I’ll have you know that both of us were proper gentlemen the entire date.”

“That why you have cum stains on your pants?”

Dorian fought the urge to glance down. He knew there was no reason to worry. He and Cullen hadn’t had any sexual relations.

Not yet, anyway.

“I’ll have you know that not everyone in Seattle is as _thot_ ful, my dear Bela.”

Isabela smirked. Dorian was a hypocrite. He had had way more sexual encounters on the first (and only) date than she had had and they both knew it.

“Still, I take it that the whole affair went well by that beaming sunspot?”

Dorian thought back on the date with a fond smile which turned into a faint blush at the memory of Cullen’s particular words about their shared interest in literature. “I would call it a personal success, yes. _And_ I think it is safe to say that another date will happen very soon.”

Isabela’s eyebrow quirked.

“I know, I know, it’s been a while since that’s happened. You don’t have to remind me,” Dorian waved off quickly. “But his company _was_ truly enjoyable. Plus he looks damn _good_ in a suit and a man who can capture my physical interest both in casual attire and formal wear is worth something.”

“Indeed,” Isabela replied with a knowing grin. Dorian was smitten and she could clearly see that. But she wasn’t going to pester him about it. He needed to take this slow.

As he had said, it had been a while.

**XXXXX**

Cullen listened to Dorian’s show in somewhat of a blur. Their date had indeed been lovely. And though his mind tried to over-analyze every comment while he worked, Cullen kept coming up blank with faults about the evening. Cullen had briefly wondered if Dorian would mention something about it on the show, what with his being so public about everything from his opinion on sex positions to the newest movie premiere, but, thankfully, Dorian stayed mute on the subject. He did open the show a bit more cheerfully than usual, but a few interesting callers had quickly captured his attention and required him to delve in about whether a glass dildo or a plastic dildo felt better and if there was a difference.

Cullen had changed out of his suit when he got to work and gingerly placed the fancy attire in his locker. Dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, he felt much more at ease than he had in the high-class wardrobe. Time didn’t seem to drag on as it usually did as he cleaned the place up. Between memories of the date and hearing Dorian’s voice, Cullen considered himself in a reasonably good mood.

Typically, Cullen could get in a quick power nap in-between the janitorial shift and working at the wood shop in the morning. However, he hadn’t felt tired after his shift cleaning and instead powered through the few hours until it was time to show up at the shop.

Not sleeping had been a mistake.

“So? How’d it go?”

“How’d what go?”

“Don’t play coy with me, Rutherford. You know what I’m talking about.”

He didn’t. Oh wait…the date. Blackwall was asking about the date.

“Oh, that. Yeah, it went really well. I’m hoping we have another one soon. Thanks again for Leliana. She was awesome.”

Blackwall gave a knowing smile. “She’s the greatest.”

Maybe if he had gotten some sleep before going to the shop then he would have been a bit more ready for who came through the front entrance of the shop.

“Oi! Who’d I have to blow to see some decent wood around here?”

Feeling the oncoming headache starting to blossom, Cullen sighed heavily and turned away from Blackwall to see their customer.

“Hello, Jethann. Yes, very clever that was. What can we do for you?”

The redhead jumped up onto the nearest table that was clear of sawdust and debris and swung his legs back and forth. He reminded Cullen of a spoiled child even if Cullen knew that the man worked very hard at his job and in life in general. “I need to place an order, my dear brute. Dining room set for a friend of mine. She wants it _custom_.”

Cullen internally rolled his eyes. He didn’t need to look at Blackwall to know that the carpenter was nearly frothing at the mouth in excitement. Blackwall _loved_ doing custom orders. It gave him an opportunity to show off his genuine talents _and_ take on a challenge. _Keeps the mind and body fit and in good condition_ , he had told Cullen on more than one occasion.

_Great_ , Cullen thought dreadfully. _Now we’ll be stuck with Jethann and his antics all day._

“Specifics?”

As Jethann rattled off the request and Blackwall drank it up like a thirsting bear at a water-less ravine, Cullen rolled his eyes and turned away from the pair to busy himself with another assignment. Let Blackwall handle Jethann. Cullen could resume his musings about the pleasantness that was last night in peace.

“And of course, I would insist that you and your underlings be there for the grand premiere,” Jethann was saying. By the way his head tilted towards Cullen, the blond assumed he was the included party. Cullen and Jethann usually butted heads. Jethann was too... _extra_. And Cullen was too much of a hard-ass.

“We’ve invited all the who’s who of Seattle for the unveiling. And I’m _especially_ excited about the grand guests of honor.”

“Oh? And who might they be?” Blackwall asked, probably out of a desire to appease Jethann, who was clearly fishing for him to ask, and get the man out of his shop as quickly as possible so he could get working.

“Isabela and Dorian Pavus. You know, from the radio? After all these months of begging, they’ve _finally_ agreed to visit my mansion! Isn’t that exciting?”

Cullen missed Blackwall’s answer. In fact, he missed whatever it was that Jethann said next.

Cullen was blindsided.

He knew that Dorian was a celebrity. He knew that Dorian would be well-connected and that all of Seattle at _least_ knew his name if not his voice. And he had known when he had agreed to Dorian’s date that, if they wound up going steady, people would see him with Dorian and wonder who he was. People would ask if he was Dorian’s boyfriend. People would take pictures of them.

People would look him up.

Cullen had _known_ all of this. He had accepted it when he had accepted Dorian’s request. But thinking it and accepting it and then actually _experiencing it_ were two very different things. This was happening too fast. When did Jethann say his event was? Cullen cursed himself for not paying attention to that _very important_ detail.

Cullen looked back at Jethann and actually took the man’s appearance in.

He was casually dressed in skinny jeans and a Guns N Roses t-shirt. His hair was slicked back and his pierced ears held a set of gold hoops. Whenever Cullen saw him at the shop, Jethann always looked like the casual, upbeat person he was in real life. On camera, that was an entirely different story. Jethann was one of the most popular and prominent porn stars in the country. He had started out at the bottom doing amateur videos and gradually worked his way to the top (no pun intended) of the game. Cullen had always found him too obnoxious to watch or listen to, but Cullen knew that at least a _large_ portion of Seattle must be part of his fan base.

Was Dorian?

Cullen blinked.

He knew from the show that Dorian had a very _wide_ span of men he was attracted to and that he didn’t really have a _type_. Almost everyone Cullen knew personally jacked off to porn. Hell, he probably worked with countless of people who jacked off to Jethann on a regular basis. The thought of Dorian and Jethann twisted around each other in some kink-fest wasn’t as weird to Cullen as the thought of them dancing, drinking, and mingling like a couple of old fish wives.

Although, Dorian was probably just as much of a bratty sub as Jethann was.

“…and then I said to her, ‘If you don’t listen to this album, honey, we are through!’ And that’s how poor, little old me is now a single Pringle once more.”

“Uh-huh. Yes, well. I am very sorry for your loss, Jethann, but I’m sure you’ll find someone a bit more…uh…well-deserving soon. Cullen and I had better get back and start working on your order.”

Jethann waved Blackwall off with a flick of his wrist as he hopped off the table. “You’re the absolute _sweetest_ , Blackwall. If you ever want to try a good romp in the hay with a dude, give me a call, yes? I have _quite_ the resume.”

Blackwall actually blushed at the offer but gave an annoyed grunt and turned away, shaking his head in wonder.

“Oh and do try to make it to the unveiling party! I'm hoping to have it on the 18th, so long as the set is finished by then. I’d love to see the both of you there!”

The 18th. That was in four weeks!

Cullen and Dorian wouldn't be _official_ by then, would they? Would Dorian _want_ them to be official? To be exclusive? To be out and proud?

As Jethann sauntered off, Cullen gripped the table for support. Cullen and Dorian at an event together. Him and Dorian in _front_ of people at an event featuring a work Cullen undoubtedly worked on. The thought was maddening. Was he ready for that? _Could_ he be ready for that?

There was no way he could risk a public appearance with Dorian as his boyfriend without telling Dorian the truth about his past.

Not that they were boyfriends. Maker, it had only been one date.

Was he ready to talk about his past?

“…-ing okay?”

Cullen blinked, trying to clear his head. He couldn’t hear Blackwall clearly. Suddenly everything was too overwhelming. He didn't feel like he had enough time. Memories of the past suddenly surged to mind and Cullen remembered when he _hadn't_ had enough time.

When everything had gone to shit with him at the center of it all.

He felt his vision swarming. A hand clasped his bicep but Cullen barely felt it. He felt numb.

Another hand took his other bicep and a shake forced Cullen to look in front of him and see Blackwall standing before him with a concerned expression. Cullen couldn’t hear him.

He was losing control.

**XXXXX**

Cole, arguably the most precious cinnamon bun featured at Corcavus Bookstore’s coffee stand, was busy wiping the counter and humming a pleasant tune when Bull poked his head around a bookshelf and peered over at him.

“Didn’t Ruffles say she was coming over soon? I haven’t seen her yet.”

“She will be here,” Cole promised him with a smile.

Bull _hmmph_ -ed and moved out of sight.

Cole finished cleaning the counter and turned to double-check his stock when a very strong feeling surged through him, causing him to drop the towel and gasp out in alarm.

“Cole? You okay?”

“Something’s…wrong…” Cole replied as Bull hurried over and leaned over the counter. Biting his lip, Cole looked down at the ground as his gaze clouded over.

“Who is it? Krem? Alistair? Fenris?” Bull asked softly.

Cole shook his head slowly. He didn’t blink for several long seconds.

Bull waited patiently. He knew from past experiences that if he tried to interrupt the sensations flooding Cole then terrible things would happen. Mostly to Bull.

Cole took a deep breath and slowly came back down from his overflow high after a few minutes. The cloudiness in his eyes faded and eventually he blinked. Not looking at Bull, he whispered, “It’s Cullen. I should –”

“Hey, we’ve talked about this,” Bull said gently but sternly. “The others can’t know about your…gift. It would freak them the fuck out.”

“But I can help.”

Bull sighed and slowly reached out to put a hand on Cole’s shoulder. “Remember what Lavellan said?”

Cole bit his lip again but nodded silently.

Some people needed to deal with their demons themselves.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked this chapter! And you thought it was going to be cheerful...bitch, you thought! Jk. I love you all.
> 
> Please review!


	7. Zevran to the Rescue!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen spends some time in the hospital before heading to the auction for Anders's Animal Hospital.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just as a heads up, Cullen spends some time in the hospital in the beginning of this chapter. He's asked questions about self-harm and suicidal thoughts so if that's triggering for anyone, just skip to under the "XXXXX" which designates a new section. You don't miss much, just him and Zevran (his nurse) bro-ing. Also I kind of bend hospital protocols a bit but hey, it's fiction.

“So. Are you going to tell me what happened or am I going to have to make up some kinky scenario? Mind you, the last one involved whips and chains and a _very_ dirty Cullen. Though I think you’d be more of a paddle kind of person. What do you think?”

“Shut up,” Cullen sighed out. He didn’t have the energy to deal with Zevran’s personality right now.

“Ah, you wound me! And here I am trying to help.”

“You call this helping?”

Zevran shrugged, tossing his long ponytail over his shoulder. “You’re talking now. That’s a plus at least. When that devilishly handsome, lumberjack fellow brought you in here I thought you were a walking corpse.”

Cullen sighed, looking away from him and out the window of the hospital room. His therapist was away on vacation and his regular doctor was out of town at a conference. Therefore, he had been largely stuck with Zevran, top of his unit, while doctors came in and out to check on him. Zevran might be a bit...unorthodox but he was much preferable to the nurses who would coddle or watch him as if he was diseased and about to explode pus all over them. Per protocol, patients weren’t allowed to be dismissed from the hospital until 24 hours after the episode had happened. So while it had taken exactly four hours and sixteen minutes for Cullen to slowly come back to himself, he still had a few more hours to go until he could breathe normally again without risk of another episode creeping in based on past occurrences.

Blackwall knew of the PTSD and related episodes and had taken him immediately to the hospital.

_I guess returning to work is out of the question for today_ , Cullen thought with a sigh.

“So. Since we are to be roommates until the full time is up, care to chat?” Zevran asked.

Cullen glanced over at the blond. Zevran had been with him the last time he had had an episode almost two months ago. The nurse was a complete flirt and could easily give Cullen a headache, but there was something sweet about him. Cullen had an easy time believing that Zevran could kill a man if he wanted to with barely a drop of sweat upon his brow.

“You want to know what caused this,” Cullen muttered softly. His heartbeat had stabilized but he still felt it jump at Zevran's question.

Zevran surprised him by shrugging in reply. “You seem to actively avoid anything that you know will set you off in life, so I’m guessing whatever caused this was truly unexpected. In which case, giving you advice to avoid similar situations in the future would be largely silly considering I am not a psychic. Was it a situation that made you want to hurt yourself?”

Cullen quickly shook his head. “No, no, nothing like that. It was driven by worry not self-hatred. I didn’t want to die, I just…wanted to pause everything…stop time for a sec.”

Zevran nodded in understanding. “Well that’s a plus, I suppose. Your records indicate a lack of self-harm in the past. Want to talk about what was worrying you?”

Cullen knew that Zevran had had training as a therapist but had missed out on taking the final examination due to a family emergency at the time. Zevran could easily take it and pass it at any time…Cullen wondered why he hadn’t yet. Technically a nurse wasn't supposed to ask any personal questions but since Cullen hadn't felt comfortable talking to the other doctors and Zevran had an easy way of bending protocol...

“I…met someone. He’s…rather high-profile. There’s an event coming up that we would both be at and the idea of us being noticed as a couple so quickly when we’ve only been on one date was…alarming.”

“Rightfully so, I would imagine,” Zevran said wisely. “You haven’t exactly had the _easiest_ past. Perhaps you’re jumping into things a bit too quickly. As you said, it’s only been one date. Marriage bells are not yet ringing.”

Cullen half-smiled at that. Zevran’s words were sound.

After some time passed, Cullen asked, “What if I’m not ready when it comes down to it?”

“Then you’re not ready.”

Cullen blinked and looked back at the man before him.

Zevran wore an easy, genuine smile as he continued, “You’re not that old, Cullen. And since you’re not the sugar daddy type, I’m guessing this date of yours isn’t too far off in age from yourself. You have time to experience _life_. Don’t set so much on the little things. Tell me this – when you had your date, how did you feel?”

“I was nervous at first because we were in a restaurant that was relatively crowded.”

“But…?”

“But…it wasn’t that bad. Actually, the date itself was very enjoyable after I realized nobody was looking at us. Nobody recognized me. I…I had taken the first move at the end of it by suggesting a second date.”

Zevran’s smile grew and something softened in his eyes. “Then you should feel very proud of yourself, Cullen. You’ve already taken a very grand first step. You don’t need to continuously push yourself. Do what feels comfortable and if you have to pull back, then pull back a bit. There’s no shame in it.”

“I don’t want him to lose interest in the meantime, though. He’s…well he’s not like me.”

“That’s not necessarily a good thing, Cullen,” Zevran spoke softly. “But everyone has their demons. Maybe you should take the time to try and figure out his. Though, maybe not on the second date.”

Cullen’s lips formed a full smile at that and Zevran smiled back.

**XXXXXX**

When Cullen was finally discharged from the hospital on Sunday morning, he returned to his apartment feeling a bit better. He had spoken with Mia and Blackwall each, both of whom were happy to hear that he was doing better. Blackwall had told him not to worry about any work that he had missed, but if Cullen really wanted to get a few extra hours in next week, then he could. Mia had insisted on coming up to see him but he had assured her that he would be able to make it to the charity auction Anders was hosting and that she shouldn’t worry. While he was stuck at the hospital with not much to do except regulate his breathing, Zevran had allowed him to fix one of the waiting room’s bookshelves that had fallen apart. Normally patients weren’t supposed to do anything other than zen out in their assigned room, but Zevran knew Cullen. He knew that Cullen needed to make something in order to feel like he was accomplishing something. Otherwise, the nurse knew that Cullen would just feel like a waste of space and breath. And Zev couldn’t have that. It would send Cullen back into a spiral. So Cullen fixed the bookshelf while being monitored by Zevran and, after, he was thanked by several sweet nurses passing by who admired his work with awe and respect. Zevran watched all of this and couldn’t help but grin to himself throughout it all. Blackwall had indeed taught Cullen well.

Having slept with little to no nightmares while at the hospital, Cullen showered at his apartment and changed into a pair of plaid boxers, faded jeans, and a black and grey flannel. He felt exhausted and worry still ate at him a bit, but he knew that seeing Mia and his nieces and nephews would ease his soul.

Locking his apartment and grabbing his keys, Cullen headed to his car and drove off.

**XXXXX**

Thekla Animal Hospital was seated in the countryside with plenty of farmland surrounding it to shelter a variety of animals that needed care. They aided everything from dogs and cats to the largest of horses and cattle. With a large staff of truly wonderful people, Thekla Hospital was the place to go for checkups or if your animal was ill. Therefore, it was critical to Cullen’s family and the surrounding neighborhoods that it remain open. Thekla Hospital was a true jewel in the countryside.

Outside the building on one of the pieces of farmland, a very large tent had been set up with a stage under it and rows upon rows of chairs. Alongside the aisles were baskets donated by the locals upon which viewers could bid through either raffle tickets or a silent auction, depending on the basket. Cullen was pleasantly surprised that hundreds of people and their children had showed up to the event to help raise money. Cullen himself had a… _strained_ relationship with the head doctor, but he could understand the importance of Anders and his work.

Cullen parked his car in-between two large pick-up trucks and made his way through the field to the tent of bustling activity. His stomach gave a brief flop at the sight of Anders atop the stage, thanking people for their contributions and leading the auction on a specific basket beside him. The doctor looked good. His hair wasn’t greasy and his clothes weren’t covered in animal fur. Instead, he wore a crisp, blue dress shirt and cargo pants. He had even donned a bit of black eyeliner for the auction.

Cullen swallowed roughly as the doctor's eyes combed the room and met his own.

Cullen wasn't sure what to do with his face.

Anders seemed to have a similar conniption because he had paused in whatever he had been saying once he caught sight of Cullen.

Luckily, Cullen heard three small beings call out his name in excitement. Turning his attention away from the doctor, he saw his two nieces and two nephews darting up to him. Beaming, Cullen swept them all up into his arms at once, laughing as they bombarded him with questions about life in the big city.

Rolling her eyes fondly at their endless stream of questions that only children could ask – such as, “Are there horses in the city? Is there a Batman in Seattle? Does the big stick thing in the city ever snag airplanes?” – Mia was next to spot him and approach, stretching her arms wide around Cullen and her children to embrace them all. After answering the majority of the children’s questions, Cullen set them down on the ground and gave each of them a kiss on the cheek before they ran off. Mia shook her head fondly and gave Cullen a kiss on the cheek.

“They’ve been talking about you non-stop all weekend. They’re very excited that Uncle Cullen paid them a visit,” Mia teased with a wink as she pulled him into a proper hug. “They’ve got no idea whatsoever about why you would want to visit _me_. They’re convinced this visit is all about them.”

Cullen chuckled as he watched the kids run around looking at all of the baskets. “They’ve certainly still got their virility. Ah to be young and naïve.”

Mia smiled at him but he could tell there was a question in her eyes. Quickly lifting his hand, he replied to her unasked question, “It’s okay. I’m better now.”

Mia didn’t prod. Instead, she turned half-away from him and nodded towards the large crowd under the tent. “Come on. I’m sure there’s at least _something_ here you would like to get your hands on.” Smugly, she glanced back at him with a smirk. “Although, I’m betting that you want a bit more of that nice piece you’ve found yourself back in Seattle.”

Cullen blushed faintly. “Don’t you have some cheating to do to win a basket?”

Mia laughed. “I already won four baskets so far. Old Lady Suthers nearly gave me a run for my money but I beat that old hag!”

Chuckling fondly, Cullen followed her into the thicket. He still wasn’t completely top notch, but being around family was comforting.

He vaguely wondered if maybe he would find something for Dorian.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
